


Children Of The Grave

by Deetvar



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Thracia 776
Genre: Bad Manners, Dread & Despair, Gen, Hematophagy, Loss of Limbs, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-11 00:55:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12311448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deetvar/pseuds/Deetvar
Summary: Reinhardt discovers a True Evil.





	Children Of The Grave

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MrMissMrsRandom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrMissMrsRandom/gifts).



Ishtar drew her hand signaling Reinhardt.  
  
“My lady.” A simple reply.  
  
“Prince Julius will be attending here soon. While this is a casual event, make no mistake he is assessing the Freege presence in the Thracian Peninsula.” Ishtar spoke flatly as they walked toward the halls.  
  
He walks toward his barracks following his lady’s order. “Very well, I will ready everyone.”  
  
Ishtar looked back, “Reinhardt.”  
  
“My Lady?”  
  
“Be presentable, you’re invited to the dinner."

* * *

 

Lord Julius stood in the forefront of the table, the back of his chair lit by waning moon. The servants darted around the table, placing their meals in front of them.

“For you, Your Highness.”

A bowl of mutton was presented. Julius looked at the dish, his eyes preyed upon it. With a knife, he stabbed into the mutton. Meticulously cutting the portions of the fibers most perceptible to being cut. He consumed each portions as if a wild coyote, shredding every piece from the whole vigorously.  
  
Reinhardt could only be taken back by how unsettling the sight was. Though he may be the Prince of Grandbell, surely there was a beast in those robes. No sense of composure, no sense of decency.  
  
Julius reached for his wine glass. Empty. A butler approached with a bottle. Julius raised his hand to the butler. “I’m rather parched but I have no need for wine.”

Julius sunk his hands into the bowl, his right hand covered in the grease of the mutton. He then spreads his hand onto the mutton itself, inserting his fingers between the threads of muscle fiber. His whole upper palm shines with grease, with streak of what seems to be blood flowing. He then with one stroke inserts his point and middle finger into his mouth. Julius sucks and chews unto his fingers, gazing off into the distance seeing Reinhardt’s disgust.  
  
Reinhardt’s eye caught something. Julius’s right hand, three of his fingers were gone. Blood dripped along his hand, his fingers were gone, nothing but pulsing remnants of blood vessels and bone emerged from the exposed fingers. Reinhardt fell ill in his stomach, every fiber of his being was screaming to leave as soon as possible. Reality snapped in on itself, and Reinhardt found himself still. Diagonally from him was Prince Julius, his hands perfectly normal. His clothes and hands completely clean, nothing remained. Was it real or merely fantasy he thought? Reinhardt sipped his glass, and let the night unwind itself.

* * *

 

Reinhardt slept in his room, the pillows were cool and his dreams cleared after the dinner. But from the crevice of the room, a dark figure stands on looking over the knight. Reinhardt did not know why but something called him from his deep slumber, his eyes were still heavy and his mind stunted.  
  
He peers throughout his room, the dim moonlight was the only thing in his room. Everything is sorted as it were when he slept. He stand and walks toward his curtain from the balcony, thinking the moonlight disturbed his rest. However all at once he felt a chill in his spine, the hair all throughout his body raised in response. _WOOSH._  
  
Reinhardt rolls away from the balcony, toward his study desk. He quickly grasps a small dagger he kept beneath his study in circumstances like these.  
  
He places the dagger in his left arm bent outward, his arms clung to his body, in preparation for a tackle. “Reveal yourself, and I will end you swiftly. Desist and you will face my wrath.”  
  
From the corner of his eye, he saw a Shade. Massive, it’s mass imposed a horror unlike any other. It’s eyes were crimson and as large as Reinhardt’s own head, it glossed a reflection of Reinhardt...but not like Reinhardt. The Reinhardt of this reflection was one of metal and it walked beyond hordes of suffering people...slowly it deteriorated. First the blade at its belt, succeeded by its head, arms, and body. The sight struck a fear unlike any other in Reinhardt.  
  
Summoning his courage, he lifts his dagger firmly. “DIE, YOU DEMON! LET THE DARKNESS BE CAST TO THE ABYSS ONCE MORE.”

He struck the dagger between its glisten eyes, the shade dispersed as as if it were fabric. The curtains throughout the room opened up displaying the full moonlight. What stood before Reinhardt was…Prince Julius. A single streak of blood flows down his face, the dagger had cut firmly between his Holy Mark.  
  
Realizing his mistake, he drops the dagger and falls to the floor. “My Prince Julius! Forgive me! A thousand apologies! I will report this immediately and receive my due punishment!”  
  
Julius stood there, his eyes fixates on Reinhardt. With his right arm, he touches where his skin had been cut. Blood covered his palm, and Julius begins to lick his own blood off his palm. Julius slurps his own blood as if an animal, “I must say Reinhardt, I am most impressed. You have the valor to withstand my terror, you truly are the Second Coming of Tordo as they say. You have satisfied me, and ergo I will grant you anything you desire Reinhardt!”  
  
Reinhardt’s eyes darts around. “I do not understand. I striked at you, your Highness. I should be punished not rewarded. Please let me fetch you a cleric and I will receive my punishment.”  
  
Julius’s irises at that moment became serpentine, “Enough, your desire Reinhardt! You have intrigued me, I will offer it to you so. Pledge yourself to me and I shall make it so.”  
  
Reinhardt’s face grew cold. “I am a servant of Grandbell, that alone is my reward.”  
  
Julius glares, their eyes met. Neither withdrew, but continued on in silence. Slowly however, dark thoughts entered Reinhardt’s thoughts. He fall toward the floor, his mind in pain. A barrage of images circles through his mind at an exponentially increasing rate. His mind flashs past memories, dreams long forgotten, and private musings. It’s speed became too fast for Reinhardt to even grasp, as if experiencing a bolt of lighting thousands of times over again. It came to stop, he grasps one image in mind. A silver haired maiden, her body was fully exposed as it radiated across the Great River of Thracia. Her features were beautiful, and Reinhardt could see on the maiden’s hand the Mark of Crusader Tordo. For that serene moment, Reinhardt experienced true bliss.  
  
Reinhardt gasped for air, his breath was short, and he could feel nothing but pain all throughout his body. With each careful motion he pushes either leg or arm forward to his bed, his body too weak to get up on its own. Julius walks toward the entrance room, he stood at the front as he watched Reinhardt struggle to get up.  
  
“I will grant your right to live, for now. But know this, I will cease your pitiful existence. Keep your interactions with Ishtar as little as possible, I will watch closely.”  
  
Julius left the room, blood drops still splattered across the floor. They evaporate under the presence of light.

* * *

 

Reinhardt brisks toward. “My Lady, do have need of my assistance.”  
  
Ishtar eyes darts away. “I’ve been told that you are assigned to a different division. My father and Prince Julius have requested to you hold down the Eastern Gate of Lenster.”  
  
Reinhardt took the news and knew what happened. “I understand...very well my Lady.”  
  
Ishtar looks back. “Reinhardt.”  
  
“Yes, my Lady?”  
  
“Perhaps when all of this is done, we can go back to Freege. Perhaps we can go back to shopping and take lunch as if we were children.” Ishtar chuckled.  
  
Her nostalgia darted into Reinhardt’s heart. It recalled to him those old memories, and the monster that seeks to undo any future memories. Reinhardt simply responded, and as he walked away toward his room he drew a sigh before unloading his sorrow. His eyes can no longer see any glimmer within Ishtar. Happiness is no longer real to him.

**Author's Note:**

> As expected of me, the title is a music reference. This fic was inspired by the songs "Black Sabbath", "Iron Man", and "Paranoid" by Black Sabbath. Anyway this is a BDay Fic for Rand. HOPE YOU ENJOY RAND.


End file.
